


poltergeist

by unsolveds



Category: Buzzfeed - Fandom, Buzzfeed Unsolved, Ryan Bergara - Fandom, Shane Madej - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Yikes, idk what im trying to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 01:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsolveds/pseuds/unsolveds
Summary: his death was anything but intentional





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay okay bear with me!!!!! this is just based off a lil headcannon goin around and i wanted to do my own take on it :')

Ryan had just moved into what possibly could be his hundredth rented apartment in Los Angeles. He always never liked moving, but he had to. Hopefully this time, he'd stay for longer than half a year.

"Aw, man." He mumbled to himself, dropping the last box to the floor. He closed the door and took a good look around. The place—it was nice. Modern. Filled with cardboard from all the boxes. He sighed, knowing he had to take another day off just to fix things around the area.

This was always the most tiring part. Getting settled in. Setting up new things, placing all your things in where they're supposed to be. Plus, no one was around to help him. He had to do everything all alone.

Taking a glance at his phone, he decided that trying to clean up his apartment was a bad idea at 1:32 in the morning. He slumped his shoulders, sighed, and headed to the bedroom, where funnily enough, he had already fixed earlier so that he could get a nice rest. He had no intention on sleeping on the floor again.

...

When he woke, the sun already poured through the windows and right into his room. He was still tired, even though he had probably slept for a good ten hours or more, he felt something was wrong. He immediately stood from his bed and fumbled for his glasses (that he had left on the floor) and put them on.

He walked out of his room and looked at the mess he had left, seemingly untouched. Still, he felt off. Probably just the new feel of the place, he thought to himself as he immediately launched into fixing the things he had left.

All the while, he still felt something different. Like someone was watching him intently, he recognized. He stopped what he was doing and took a look around. Nothing. He was the only one there. What he was feeling didn't shake off, though, and had only become stronger as he kept doing his work.

Finally, after what must have been an hour later, he sat down on the chair and pulled his phone out, trying to take his mind off the feeling, but it carried on until he heard something crash from the other room.

Ryan froze.

"What the fuck?" he whispered, standing up to go check on what had fell.

He walked into a spare room, which he had been sure was empty when he had checked on it the night before. Now, on the floor, was a photo frame. He stared at it for a while, not knowing where it had even come from—or where it fell. The room was entirely empty devoid this picture. He felt something crawl up his back, and he shivered, suddenly feeling the presence even worse than before.

He crouched, picking up the photo, and on a whim, turned it around. He didn't know what he had expected to see. What it contained was a photo of someone he hadn't seen before. Brown, blond hair, brown eyes. A boy.

The photograph looked old with many tears on the edges when he took it out of the case. It felt like the picture came straight out of the 60s, yet it was colorized. He checked the back of the photo, where a note and a date was on it.

i'm sorry

i had to do this

it isn't fair to you

but i deserved it

\- s

1972

"What the fuck?" he repeated, at a much higher pitch.

Something like this definitely wasn't here when he first arrived, and even though he had slept heavily, he doubted that he wouldn't have woken if someone sneaked into his place just to put a photo into a room.

Who would, though? He thought. And how did it fall? The case was broken, and it had sounded like it fell from a pretty high shelf. There were no shelves in the room.

Just as he was about to stand to leave and take it with him, a hand-like thing placed itself on his shoulder and he jumped in surprise and fear, frantically searching the cause of the sensation.

He didn't know which was more horrifying in his opinion. Looking and seeing nothing, or looking and seeing something had, definitely, touched him. His heart raced like it had never before, and no matter how many times he blinked, it was still there.

His lungs weren't giving him enough oxygen, he felt, as he breathed heavily and hurriedly while staring at something who did the exact same back to him.

It was only after Ryan managed to get a good look that whatever was there looked familiar. Not that Ryan knew whatever this was, but that he had just been staring at a photo of it.

Suddenly, his legs could move and he ran out, quicker than he had ever done before and to the main door of his apartment. He clutched the photo and his phone, not knowing what else to do. He grew cold, and an eerie atmosphere fills over the whole place as whatever had been in the other room followed him out. It carried a blank expression and before Ryan could even leave the room, a sound rang in his ears that he registered was a voice that wasn't his.

"You seem to be in possession of something that isn't yours."

\---

 


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for all the comments. they all mean so much to me. please continue to leave them, basing on what u think!!

There were many things Ryan could have done. He could have yelled for help, called the police, or just run out the door. Instead, his legs were firmly planted in place as he kept looking at what he could what he regarded as the impossible.

It’s as if time had slowed, yet his mind ran at the speed of sound as he tried to process of what was happening, and what he had to do next.

“Not...mine?” Ryan finally replied, in-between breaths. He wasn’t sure if he was finally going insane, or if he was still asleep, but either way, there was no way this was actually taking place while he was in a state of consciousness.

“The photograph. It is not yours. Give it back or I won’t hesitate to slit your throat.”

Sensing danger for the first time, his heart jumped and missed a beat. He dropped the picture involuntarily, now using his free hand to grip the door knob just behind him. Whatever he was seeing still stood where it was, not moving, still giving off one of the most threatening glares Ryan had ever seen in his life.

“I’m fucking dreaming,” Ryan muttered to himself, blinking twice and praying to God it’d disappear every time he opened them. No. It was still there.

“Get out of my house.”

The voice. It was menacing, like it wasn’t bluffing with threats it had been giving to Ryan.

Through the blinds, sun poured into the unlit room, causing Ryan not to see what he was seeing very well. Its feet placed on the ground, like his, but as cliché as it sounded, what he was seeing was translucent. Through the unnatural being he could see the hallway leading into his bedroom. Somehow, Ryan hadn’t noticed this before. He had a word to describe what he was seeing, but even the mere thought of this word was ridiculous.

“Your house? This place is mine.” He said. Immediately he questioned himself why he was arguing with something that had the possibility and potential to kill him, but it was too late, the words had already escaped from his shaking lips as he hoped for the best.

Still, his legs refused to move. Fear had struck him, its adrenaline running wildly into his veins as all he could do was keep staring, wide eyed, to the being in front of him.

It picked up the photograph Ryan had dropped without moving an inch from where it was. Ryan was just about ready to pass out as the picture levitated from its position near Ryan’s feet and away from him and into its hands. There was no way this was real.

“How dare you come into my property, and touch my things? With the intention of...what? Living here? What a fucking mess you are.”

Suddenly, it started to move, slowly coming closer to Ryan. A chilling drop in temperature caught Ryan’s attention immediately and he shrank back, like a small, young kid, closing his eyes and now feeling absolutely helpless. Knowing he couldn’t escape the situation he was in, he opened his eyes slowly, unable to conceal a small yelp of fear as whatever it was now stared him in the face, just inches apart from his.

A look in its eyes is something Ryan will never forget, and in the only way he could put what he saw into words was genuine hate and loathing unlike anything he had ever seen before. Being this close, he finally managed to get a good look at him. Other than the look in its eyes, he could see a tint of brown in them, faint blond hints of color in his hair, and a frown on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched up together in anger, only adding to the fear Ryan felt for what could possibly happen to him next.

“I should not have to repeat myself. I’m getting tired of you, and your kind. Taking everything for granted. What bullshit. Wasting all your lives away doing absolutely nothing important. You’d be better off dead.”

The next thing Ryan remembered was feeling a sudden, immense pain on his wrist, like someone had grabbed him tightly and wasn’t letting go. His eyes snapped down to his wrist, where it was holding him. It felt like his whole arm was burning and numb, all at the same time.

With a sudden burst of fight-or-flight, Ryan turned the door knob and pulled the door open running out of the apartment as it let go of him. He ran straight down ten flights of stairs, never missing a beat as he felt like whatever it was had kept following him, but when he finally stopped outside the main entrance of the building, nothing was off the ordinary. People going about their own business. L.A. in its normal form.

Ryan breathed heavily, pulling his phone from his pocket and shooting a text to a contact he didn’t even check.

**‘I need a place to stay in. Can you help, please?’**

 

It took about five minutes of Ryan trying to calm himself down and checking whether had it followed him back before the person who had texted him answered.

**‘Yeah, sure. I’m at work right now, but meet me at my apartment at six.’**

 

Ryan didn’t even bother to reply as he walked to their apartment, not wanting to take a cab and walked for a full straight hour until he finally arrived, admittedly 4 hours early to the time they had set.

He needed to think of what he had encountered.


End file.
